


Queen of the Gods

by reidschase



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Female original character UnSub, Unsub - Freeform, Unsub | Unknown Subject, female oc unsub, female!unsub
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29513334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reidschase/pseuds/reidschase
Summary: Ambrosia Green, a female serial killer who has been murdering under the radar for years. With a group of girls who assist in the killings, what could go wrong went she taunts the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit?
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> set at the beginning of season seven of criminal minds.

Ambrosia Green had evaded police detection for years. For years, she sauntered around America without getting on the FBI’s radar.

Two hundred and thirty-six. Two hundred and thirty-six people had died to her hand. Some were shot, while others were stabbed. Sometimes, she went as far to strangle them. Others were as simple as poison.

Bodies were dropped in every state — with the exception of Hawaii and Alaska. As she travelled without detection, the girl gained friends. Or some may say partners in crime.

Well, they weren’t her equals. They worked for her. Others would consider them her submissives but Ambrosia considered them her family.

Nyah Johnson was the teams sharpshooter. With special training from within the MI6, she was one of the youngest recruits. Nyah was African, born and raised in England. She had long gorgeous hair, in braids. They met five years ago in Paris, where the duo became inseparable.

Victoria Chase’s specialty was with bombs. Building, defusing and placing. The girl was beautiful with her blonde, and pale skin. Victoria was twenty-seven, the oldest in the group - having met Ambrosia two years ago in New York.

Then there was their hacker and personal technical analyst. Aspen Lee was twenty-five with short black hair. She had been recruited by Ambrosia after she had hacked into her own network. If you can’t beat them, recruit them.

Finally, there was their genius Mishti Firman. She was muslim, with brown skin. And unsurprisingly, she was gorgeous. Mishti was twenty-two, only a year younger than Ambrosia.

They had locations and hideouts all over the country. Most of their money came from stealing money electronically or pawning items which surprisingly have them more money than someone would think.

Their technology was extremely advanced, perhaps more advanced than the governments. Often, Ambrosia was the only one in the field but she was sometimes accompanied by Nyah.

Currently, the group of five were in Ambrosia’s home state of Oregon. They had a whole new victim pool prepared as they hadn’t been been to Oregon in two years.

“Hera?” called Nyah, causing the womens head to look up at the nickname. “You’re going to want to take a look at this.”

Due to her name, Ambrosia had taken an interest in Greek Mythology. Unsurprisingly, once she made her group she was deemed Hera — Queen of the God’s and all.

Following the girl across the house, they approached the living room. There, Aspen was sat on a bean bag with her laptop on her lap. Projecting it onto the TV, Aspen began talking.

“You know how you asked me to keep eyes on the FBI? I think they’ve connected your cases in California, specifically the B.A.U,” said Aspen.

Aspen pulled up a camera from within Quantico. On the screen the FBI agent’s appeared to be surrounding a board which had three of her victims from California, that she had all shot execution style.

“They won’t connect it, at least not me anyways,” shrugged Ambrosia.

“Do you want to relocate? My bets on them going to California,” asked Nyah.

“No. They’re Behavioural Analysis, right? They rely on what they know from previous serial killers. I want to give them another victim,” said Ambrosia.

“Are you sure? Don’t you think thats a bit risky?”

“I haven’t taunted the police in years, come on, let’s have some fun,” she answered. “You can get this kill on the FBI’s radar?”

“Yeah, I’ll get a house ready in another state so let me know when you want to dip,” sighed Aspen.

“Are you really about to drag the FBI through a chase across the country?” questioned Nyah.

Ambrosia grinned, “Who would I be if I didn’t?”

✮

The man was on his knees, fear stricken and tears brimming his eyes. He was looking down the barrel of her revolver.

“Please don’t kill me. I—I didn’t do anything. I swear!” the man begged.

The women only laughed down at the man. Cocking her gun, the man attempted to stand up. Before he could even get a knee off the ground, a bullet was shot right between his eyes.

His body fell back, hitting the ground of the motel carpet. With a sadistic grin, the girl crouched down to look at the corpse. Ambrosia could feel the rush of adrenaline pulsing through her veins.

Though she did not feel the excitement of getting to torture her victim, the thrill of having the FBI on her tail soon was enough to get her riled up. After evading law enforcement for years, the idea of having federal agents attempt to catch her felt exhilarating.

She had purposely used the same gun in multiple killings, she wanted them to look into her victims. There was no way they could tie her forensically to their deaths.

Ambrosia had gotten away with murder since she was seventeen. Whether she framed others for the murder, used a different M.O, or law enforcement didn’t connect her crimes.

Considering leaving a message for the B.A.U, or throw them off the investigation she decided against it. Instead, she pulled on a hoodie before pulling the hood over her head.

The motel was rundown, and in a high crime area. The area was used to hearing gunshots and compared to the other victims she had shot with the same M.O, it was more public.

As she walked out of the parking lot, she reached into the hood pocket and pulled out a burner phone. Typing in a phone number she memorised, the line rang for a couple moments before a voice spoke.

“He dead?”

“Aspen, it’s me, what do you think?” scoffed Ambrosia.

“Just checking. Once the body’s reported, it’ll be on the FBI’s radar,” typing could be heard in the background. “The B.A.U’s on their way. I really don’t think you should do this.”

“Are you doubting me?” snarled Ambrosia.

“No—“ began Aspen.

Before Aspen could respond, the other women had hung up the call. Ambrosia did not like when people questioned her.

Moments later when she approached the curb, a car pulled up. Opening the passengers side door, she slid into the car. Nyah was driving the car, which Ambrosia assumed was stolen.

The sun had begun to set as the duo began making their way back towards their current hideout. The car was quiet, with the sound of Nyah tapping her fingers against the steering wheel.

The sound caused Ambrosia to grit her teeth in annoyance. Cracking the car window, she lit a cigarette.

“Say what’s on your mind, don’t be afraid,” spoke Ambrosia, placing the cigarette between her lips.

Nyah let out a short chuckle, “Hera, I’ve seen what you do to people when they say an opinion. I’d rather not end up with a bullet between my eyes.”

“I value your opinion, Nyah. It’s one of the only opinions I do care about,” answered Ambrosia.

There was silence in the car for a seconds. Nyah was contemplating her options. Taking a slow drag from her cigarette, Ambrosia felt the smoke begin to fill up her lungs. She held the smoke in her lungs, feeling the burn for a couple moments.

Pulling the cigarette away from her mouth, she leaned her head back. Tilting her head to the side, she blew the smoke out of the window.

“In the five years I have known you, you’ve only had two close calls with law enforcement. Both because you put yourself in their line of sight. I just think it’s risky to put yourself in front of the FBI,” commented Nyah. “But I’ll back you up no matter what.”

“A couple of Behavioural Profilers, or men, for a matter of fact, aren’t going to be able to take me down. I’ve been doing this for years, I won’t get caught. And if I do; you’ll be there and so will the rest of the group,” replied Ambrosia.

“Damn right we will,” mumbled Nyah, as they pulled into the house.

“But I’m touched you care about me,” teased Ambrosia.

Getting out of the car, Ambrosia placed the cigarette back between her teeth as they walked into the house. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

Within the house, the rest of their team was in the kitchen. They were sat at the counter, Aspen had her computer in front of her while Victoria appeared to be making everyone food.

At the womens arrival, everyone seemed to sit up a little taller. All conversations halted for a moment before Aspen decided to speak. However, instead of addressing Ambrosia, she talked directly to Nyah.

“Nyah, you’ve got to convince her not to taunt the FBI,” she stressed.

“Well I—“ Nyah began.

“I’m right here, you know?” interrupted Ambrosia. “You’re either in this, or not.”

“Of course I’m in. I’m just being cautious. I’m saying this out of love,” sighed Aspen.

“If you’re in, then you know I’m not going to back out. So, I suggest you stop trying to get me to butt out. The chances of me getting caught, nonetheless convicted are low. Mishti, statistics on female serial killers?”

“Sixteen percent, or one in six, of serial killers apprehended in the United States since 1820 were female,” explained Mishti. “Some people believe female serial killers to be a oxymoron. FBI agent Roy Hazelwood said ‘ _there are no female serial killers_ ,’ during a conference in 1998.”

“Keep going,” urged Ambrosia.

“With time elapsing between homicidal events, females outperform their male counterparts. A study found that we operate under the radar; they are less likely to have a criminal history, tend to kill those closest to them, and use quieter methods of elimination; poison, drugs, smothering. As a result, their killing careers last much longer than men - between eight and eleven years, in comparison to two years for male serial murderers - with an average of nine victims,” rambled Mishti.

“Wow. Average of nine though? We got to help our other female partners out there,” joked Victoria.

“How many have you got again, Hera?” questioned Nyah lightheartedly.

“Somewhere in the two hundreds. Though I had you guys after sixty. But hey, who’s counting?” said Ambrosia.

“The FBI will be, guess who’s body just got found,” said Aspen.

A smile slid over the women’s face as she took another drag of her cigarette. Her lipstick now painted the bud of the cigarette, as she had been smoking throughout the conversation.

With Aspens hacking skills, they were in every law enforcement database and every single camera within the United States. They had eyes on everywhere and on everyone.

Their group had been keeping tabs on the FBI’s units for years. They practically knew everything about everyone. They looked at the Organized Crime Unit, the Behavioural Analysis Unit and even Andi Swann’s Domestic Trafficking Task Force.

Although they didn’t know them personally, they knew about the impacting things that had occurred to each unit. How Ashley Seaver transferred from the B.A.U to Andi Swann’s unit, how Emily Prentiss faked her death, how Josh Cramer had an Agent tortured by rats, how Aaron Hotchner’s wife was murdered by The Reaper.

They were prepared, and they were ready to run at a moments notice. The group of girls were ride or die for each other, or at least for Ambrosia.

If the mans body has just been found and the local police department was entering their discovery into ViCap, it wouldn’t be long until the B.A.U were rerouted to Oregon.

This was only the beginning.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning : torture. viewer discretion advised for anyone who is triggered (etc.) by those type of graphic scenes/writing.

The B.A.U jet was quiet as they made their way across the country. Although he had forgiven her,there was still tension in the air between Jennifer and Spencer. 

JJ was asleep on the couch, after having a long night caring for her son. The sun had begun to set and the flight was due to land soon. 

“Alright, let’s go through the case,” spoke Hotch, gaining everyone’s attention. 

“Do we wake up JJ?” Emily asked as she looked at the sleeping women. 

“We can fill her in later,” said Hotch.

The team were sat opposite each other, with Emily next to Morgan and Hotch next to Spencer. Rossi sat comfortably on the table opposite them. Pulling out the case files, they began to look through it.

“All shot execution style. Either between the eyebrows or through the temple,” began Derek. 

“Three victims, all men. This M.O is typically used in gangs, but there doesn’t seem to be any gang relations between victims. There doesn’t seem to be any evidence pointing to sadism either,” said Spencer. 

“The UnSub might be getting off on making them beg for their life before they kill them. That would definitely get him on the sadistic scale,” commented Emily.

Rossi was going to be next one to speak, but he was interrupted by a ding on a screen. Seconds later, Penelope’s colourful appearance appeared with a solemn look.

“One day I want to call you and inform you that the UnSub has been caught, and that you all can come home safely to my arms. Alas, today is not that day,” blubbered Penelope.

“Hey mama, another body?” inquired Derek.

“Yes, but not in California,” announced Penelope. 

“Not in California?” repeated Hotch, confused by her statement. 

“A body turned up with the same M.O in Portland, Oregon,” informed Penelope. “They haven’t got ballistics back, but they believe he used a 38 Smith & Wesson.”

“Like the other victims,” said Emily. “I’ll have the pilot reroute us to Portland.”

“Did he cross state lines as a forensic countermeasure, or because there’s someone on Portland that is the target of his rage?” wondered Rossi. 

Though the question wasn’t necessarily rhetorical, the group didn’t answer. They pondered the question for a couple moments as Emily made her way back from the cockpit. 

Jennifer woke up moments after Emily re-entered, mumbling incoherently. She was disoriented before she was able to speak a coherent sentence.

“How much longer to we land?”

Emily let a soft smile graze her face before she spoke, “Two hours, there’s a new body in Portland.” 

“Can someone make me a coffee?” JJ yawned.

“Of course, the usual?” asked Emily.

After receiving a nod in confirmation, Emily began making herself and Jennifer a coffee. Hotch continued to look through the case files.

The team filtered off into seperate conversations. Emily gave a coffee to JJ before she sat next to the blonde, falling into a conversation. Derek and Spencer began a game of cards, taking time to relax before they began the case.

JJ and Emily’s conversation was hushed. But it wasn’t long before Jennifer spoke up again, catching everyone’s attention. 

“Oh, I should probably mention that a case like this is going to get a lot of media attention,” said JJ.

✮

“Is the FBI assisting the Portland Bureau with a case?”

“Has a serial killer from California made its way to Seattle?”

“Why haven’t you arrested him yet?” 

The media flooded the Behavioural Analysis Unit with questions outside of the local Bureau department. 

“No comment,” said SSA David Rossi. 

“How could you let a serial killer cross states?” 

Beside David Rossi, stood Jennifer Jareau and Derek Morgan. Multiple media reporters followed the three Agents as they approached the department. Just as they approached the door, JJ turned around.

“The FBI will make an official statement soon. All questions can be answered then. Thank you for your concern,” announced Jennifer. 

Ambrosia let out a laugh as she watched the news reporters bombard the Agents with questions before they disappeared completely. Switching back to the station, regular news returned to the TV. 

Turning the television off, the women stood up and entered a room where Victoria was alongside Mishti. Mishti seemed to be sketching something in a textbook while Victoria admired her.

“Behaviour Analysis Unit, so they’re profilers, right?” asked Victoria when the women entered the room.

“Behavioural profiling is basically about identifying and measuring the characteristics and preferences of individuals. The information can then be related to other variables within the organisation, such as alignment to job role; team fit and potential for development,” explained Mishti. “They’ll look at the crimes scenes, victimology and locations. With that information they’ll build a profile including age, race, gender and key behavioural keys to try and catch Hera.”

“God, I love how you know everything,” mumbled Victoria.

“Agreed,” hummed Ambrosia, picking up an apple. 

“So, what are you planning next?” asked Mishti, changing the topic.

Waiting a moment to respond, Ambrosia took a bite of her apple. 

“Torture,” she said shortly.

“Seriously? Don’t you think that’s a bit of an escalation?” wondered Victoria. 

“The point, exactly. Abduct, torture, shot through the head, dump. Hopefully, they’ll assume that I knew the victim and that I escalated,” nodded Ambrosia.

“I’m out—well I mean I’m not going to torture him. I’ll help in any way I can, but I’d rather not watch, you know?” disclosed Mishti, pushing out of her chair. 

“Understood, what about you? You in?” inquired Ambrosia, turning towards the blonde.

“Eh, I might sit out too. Working a couple of new bomb designs. I plan on making one that only kills one victim. On the other hand, I’ve got one that might be able to topple a skyscraper,” replied Victoria.

The other women pouted, “You’re no fun.”

“Sorry Hera, another day perhaps?” said Victoria. 

Only acknowledging her with a swift move of her head. With that, Victoria placed a hand on her shoulder before she left. She finished eating her apple, staying in the study for a couple minutes. 

If they were going to abduct someone, they needed a secure secondary location. They couldn’t use their house, it would be too risky. Deciding she would ask Aspen to find a place, she let out a breath before she stood up.

Excitement was seeping out of her at the thought of having another victim in her grasp tonight, especially one she could torture. 

The house was quite large, and very modern. Whenever they travelled, they always stayed in the most luxurious places. Whether they paid for them, scammed people or were just lucky, they were always comfortable. 

Finding the room where Aspen was, she approached her. The girl appeared to be typing some kind of code. A monitor beside her showed security cameras from within the local Bureau, where the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit was. 

“Hey, I need a secondary location by tonight. Do you think you can get me one?” asked Ambrosia.

“What kind? Where are you thinking?” said Aspen, beginning to type something on her screens.

“Big, somewhere I won’t be interrupted. Secluded, somewhere people can’t hear anything,” specified Ambrosia.

“Torture? You haven’t done that in a while,” pointed out Aspen, pulling up an address. “Does an old warehouse work? We can go scout it out right now, if you like.”

“Take Nyah and Victoria. Let me know what you find,” answered Ambrosia. 

✮

The man was restrained to the chair. Ropes were wrapped tightly around his wrists, tied around the wooden chair arm. His ankles too, were tied to the chair legs. 

His sedation was slowly beginning to wear off. Tossing and turning his head, he began blubbering incoherently. 

Ambrosia stood in front of the man, swinging the gun around her finger. On the floor before her was a bag of weapons. These weapons included things such as knifes, blades, and just simpler things such as hammers and belts. 

When the man finally opened his eyes, they were alert and terrified. His head swivelled around the warehouse before his eyes finally landed on the women in front of him. 

“You’ve—you’ve got to help me!” he called. 

“Now, why would I do that?” hummed Ambrosia, clasping her hand around the gun and pointing it at him.

“You? But you’re just a girl. Just let me go,” he said.

She didn’t answer, instead she put her gun into a waist holster and bent down to look through the weapons bag. Picking up a sharp knife, she approached the man. 

“‘ _Just a girl_ ’? You men, so incompetent. So foolish. You see a women and think she could do no harm. I can’t wait to have your blood on my hands,” grinned Ambrosia.

She circled around him for a couple moments as contemplated what she would do to him first. Placing the tip of the knife on the side of his head, she heard his breathing hitch. 

“What’s your name?” she asked softly.

“Bryce,” he gulped. 

“Hello Bryce,” Ambrosia whispered into his ear.

His scream was the only response he could get out. She has sliced off his his ear in one go. Blood began pouring out of where his ear had once been. 

Letting him settle with the ear pain for twenty minutes, Bryce finally was able to calm himself down. Despite the pain in his ear, he began to try an negotiate with her. 

“If you let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Bryce pleaded. 

“There is that foolishness again. Now, let’s have a little bit of fun,” smirked Ambrosia. 

“No, no, no—HELP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!” he yelled out. 

“You’re stupid, aren’t you? No one is around here for at least fifteen miles. Besides my team, of course. Now—“ she twisted the mans arm, so that his forearm was in view. “Let’s add some hesitation, shall we? Did you know that the FBI’s in town for me?”

“Then they’ll catch you. You crazy fucking whore,” he cursed. 

A laugh fell off her lips as she hesitantly cut the mans wrists. Once small droplets of blood began to bead out, she cut deeper into his arm. 

Blood painted the knife, as it dripped onto her hands. She picked up a towel, wiping the blood off. Then, she picked up a bandage and wrapped his wrists. She wasn’t going to let him bleed out. 

“You know, Bryce, you think they’ll catch me. But unfortunately for you, they think you’re only victim number five,” said Ambrosia. 

Bryce’s breathing caught in his throat again, “Only number five?” 

“Well, you’re actually going to be victim number two hundred and thirty-eight,” corrected Ambrosia.

“Two hundred and thirty-eight? You’re lying!” the man scoffed. 

“Want to guess how many I tortured before you?”hissed Ambrosia. “Ninety-eight. Wish it were more though.”

“You psycho bitch!” 

“I wouldn’t want to be anyone else.”

The mans screams echoed through the abandoned warehouse for hours as the women continued to torture him. 

His blood spilled on her hour after hour. Staining Ambrosia clothes and sticking to her hair. Bandaging up his injuries so that he wouldn’t bleed out. 

Cutting him, stabbing him, hitting him, choking him. Bruises were formulated all over his body, done by various blunt objects. Ligature marks were shown around his neck from choking him before releasing him. 

Stab wounds were evident in his arms, legs, and chest. She slit him and cut him. Most, if not all of his body, was covered in wounds. Some were hesitant while others were not. 

He was bad. 

Compared to the last bodies she had dropped - specifically the ones the B.A.U was looking in to - this was an extreme escalation. 

He was not dead yet. But he sure as hell looked like it. The man could hardly move his head, his entire body was aching. Slightly moving his head up, he made eye contact with her. 

“Please... don’t...” his voice croaked.

A sadistic grin was on her face. The entire time he had begged for mercy. He was dehydrated after hours of torturing and screaming. 

Her .38 S&W revolver was back in her right hand, a new blade in her other. Spinning the barrel of the gun, she pointed it at his head. Pulling the the trigger, the gunshot echoed the warehouse.

Dead.

Using a blade, she cut across his stomach and some of his stomach and intestines half spilt out of him. 

Aspen and Nyah entered the room moments later, assuming the gunshot confirming the mans death. A van was outside prepared to help dispose of the body.

They helped carry out the body, loading it into the van. Aspen opted to stay behind and clean up the blood to the best of her ability, concluding that they would circle back for her.

They drove close to the motel in which Ambrosia killed her last victim. Dropping the body not too far from the motel. 

Before they returned into the van, Ambrosia slipped on disposable gloves and stuck her finger into one of the mans wounds. 

Using his blood, she wrote ‘BAU’ on the mans forehead, the only place he didn’t have any injuries. Then, she put the mans ear into his own mouth. 

Returning to the van, she was ecstatic. Psychological torture was soon to be inflicted on the local bureau, anyone who knew the victim, and the FBI.

They had no clue who they were dealing with; and it was only the beginning. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi! im a white women, however i wanted to include diversity in my stories. in this story i have a black women, and a muslim women. i want to write them to the best of my ability, so if you are from any of the respective groups, please feel free to educate me and leave me tips on how i can better represnt your culture and race within this story. thank u sm :)


End file.
